Tomato Soup
by Striped-Tie
Summary: One would think that tomato soup would be a rather easy thing to make. It's not. But at the request of an ill co-worker, Chris actually tries his hand in the kitchen. ChrisxJill, get well present for a friend XD


Haha I tried my best but I don't think I like this very much xD So sorry.

For my Jill, haha. Get well soon, Missy :3 – Claire.

* * *

For the past couple of weeks Jill Valentine had been a guest at Chris' residence. After a rather bad spat with her land lord, she had been kicked out of her apartment. Chris, being a good Samaritan, was quick to offer up his couch for her to sleep on until she could find her feet again.

He had always found himself rather fond of the young woman anyway, so the arrangement bothered him little. Coaxing her to make herself comfortable for some time, he enjoyed the extra company he was able to spend with her.

Though this was the first time he had actually seen her sick.

She had come down with a rather bad cold, taking up Chris' bed rather than the couch. While he didn't know exactly how that had happened, he gave no protest to it.

He hadn't heard from her in quite some time that morning, and he had just been noticing that since she had fallen ill, she wasn't exactly eating regularly – Either rarely hungry or too tired to even try to eat.

Not wanting the lass to get any worse, he headed to the bedroom door, being as quiet as possible incase she happened to be asleep.

She wasn't, however, curled up under the covers of his bed, snuggling close to the pillows and looking rather miserable. She quickly shut her eyes as the extra light from the door spread into the room, having only been lit by the doll bedside lamp until them.

"Sorry, Sorry."

Chris was quick to apologize, closing the door behind him. Jill eased a pillow up, placing it over her head as she tried to get used to the darker lighting once more.

"Sorry to interrupt you V, but I just wanted to know if you want something to eat." Chris explained, keeping his voice low, but loud enough to be heard. He heard her grumble as she lifted the pillow slightly.

"… I'm not hungry." She stated, managing to sit up after her statement. Her hair had fallen over her eyes, clinging to her face from the slight sweat she had broken out with. Her loose pajamas she wore did the same against her skin, no doubt making the poor dear rather uncomfortable.

"You've been saying that for the last two days." Chris said, shaking his head. "C'mon, whatever you want."

"Tomato Soup."

She took no pause in replying this time, as if she had decided on her answers hours prior to the occasion. There was a long pause between the two, before Jill inhaled sharply, once, twice, then sneezed quite loudly. She gave a small whimper, before lying back down and snuggling under the covers once more, all the while looking at Chris.

Chris himself had raised a brow at her answer, lips twisting to form a frown. "Tomato Soup?" He mirrored back, receiving a nod in reply, "… You don't want me to go out and get you something instead?"

"Tomato Soup." Jill replied. "Anything you'd buy would just be all greasy and make me feel even more… Bleh."

Chris ran his fingers through his hair, knowing he didn't particularly have any options about this. She clearly had her heart set on it, now that she had decided to eat. "Alright, but you'd better make sure you eat it."

"I will, every last bit. Even if it sucks."

"You don't have much confidence in my cooking abilities, do you?"

"Not at all."

He rolled his eyes, opening the door to leave. Jill quickly ducked under the covers, causing Chris to apologize quickly again as he swiftly left.

Chris did have a hard time navigating the kitchen. Anyone's kitchen, for that matter. More times than not, he was happy to just hunt through the fridge for something to munch on. But since Jill had been sleeping on his couch, he had found himself doing this far less than he used to. Probably due to the fact that Jill would throw something at him whenever he did, seeing as he seemed to favour the foods _she_ bought.

"Tomato Soup, Tomato Soup…" No matter how many times he repeated it, it seemed foreign to him. Never once had he owned a cooking book. Rarely had he ever actually cooked for himself. More often than not, it had been his little sister that had kept him fed.

Ah, Claire, of course!

He made a quick grab for the phone, hitting one of the only speed dial buttons assigned to it. He didn't know whether that was particularly a good thing or a bad thing. It rung a few times, Chris humming softly as he waited.

"Hello?"

"I have no idea what the fuck I'm doing."

"Hey Chris, I've missed you too." Claire said, holding back a smile as she brought her palm to her face. "What did you do? Bust a pipe? … Father a child?"

"Nothing like that!" Chris spat, taking a few moments to register the last part, "Especially that!"

"Such a spoil sport, but I guess it's probably a good thing." Claire shrugged, resting a hand on the drawer next to her phone. "I mean you're yet to date a girl that's---"

"Can we please not start this again?" Chris whined, his voice high-pitched and strained, "Seriously, all I want is a Tomato Soup recipe!"

Claire mulled over the statement in her mind, repeating it silently to herself in confusion. After a few moments, she jumped up, clearly perkier. "You mean you're actually cooking for yourself? Chris, I'm so proud of you!"

"Nooo, it's not for me!" Chris stated, shaking his head, "It's for Jill, she's here and---"

"Hooooly crap, Jill? It's about time!"

"No, it's not what you think!"

"Let me think what I want to think or I'm not going to give you the recipe!"

"You cruel, cruel woman."

"It runs in the family don't it?" Claire smirked rather victoriously, thinking a few things about this new finding in her mind, "I actually like Jill, this could be good."

"Can you please just give me the recipe before you go overboard, please?" Chris voice had returned back to being high-pitched and desperate, not wanting to her his sister's assumptions and musings that he couldn't deny.

Claire sighed, shaking her head as she leant against the wall. "Fine you spoil sport, grab a pen and paper."

* * *

"She could have been a whole lot clearer about this…" Chris mumbled to himself, looking over the scrap piece of paper. He had scribbled down the ingredients and instructions, rather crudely as his sister had talked rather fast, using terms he didn't understand in the slightest. He had to guess when he was trying to decipher everything.

He continued to look over the words as he walked over to the kitchen's cupboards, trying to memorize the ingredients. Onion, garlic, carrot… That and more just for some tomato soup? Wasn't it… No, he couldn't even take a guess at how soup was made. It had always just… Magically appeared when he wanted it. Canned, or made by his sister – Though the latter often thrown it in his face.

He tossed the paper on the counter before opening the fridge. He repeated the names of the vegetables over and over again, quietly under his breath. It took two trips, but he managed to transport everything over next to the paper. One onion, one clove of garlic, one carrot… And a lot of tomatoes. A Kilo, Claire had instructed.

He frowned similar to how he had earlier at this. While he didn't mind tomatoes, so much on mass was not particularly to his liking. They did indeed have that much, as Jill was a very big fan of tomatoes. He'd often catch the young woman contently biting into one, raw, while watching TV.

But at least the instructions gave him one thing he was good at doing – Using a knife. Vegetables were peeled, sliced and diced in no time flat, much to Chris' relief. He threw them into the pot, along with a little bit of olive oil – Which Claire had been neglected to mention how much – before leaving it to shimmer and look back at the remaining instructions.

He mumbled something under his breath, still hoping that he actually had the rest of what was needed. Cream? Vinegar? Shit, why the hell would you even need something like that in tomato soup? He shook his head, once again retreating to the fridge. Double cream, eggs, vinegar.

With much difficulty, he managed to mix the ingredients, though he made a real mess doing so. He didn't look forward to cleaning it up later, but if he didn't, he'd get a not too nice word from Jill when she was better. He put it to the side, just as the instructions called for, and went off to fix everything up.

* * *

Jill tried to sit up with a start, but only managed to roll over sluggishly. She groaned, shakily managing to lift herself up. She's heard a slam of some sort, as well as plenty of swearing from Chris.

"Chris!" She called, having to cut short of repeating due to coughing. Curse this common, common cold.

What had he been doing? Maybe it was a bit cruel of her to ask him to go ahead and cook something for her. The poor dear barely knew the difference between a fork and a knife. Knife-fork, now there was an invention.

She rested her head back on the pillow, listening for any possible reply. She sighed, pulling the covers up over her shoulders. "Chris! You haven't hurt yourself out there, have you?"

She managed to push herself up again, pushing the covers off. Oh, knowing that boy he could easily give himself a concussion, as hard as his head was. Could take a baseball bat to it, but one little knock from the top cupboards and he was out like a light.

"Hey, you should get back under the covers before you get even worse."

She sleepily looked over at the door, barely able to keep her eyes open. The door had opened without her noticing so, but there he stood, bowl of soup in hand. She smiled drearily, half expecting him to have given up the effort.

"Finally, my saviour, I thought I was going to starve." She said, tugging her covers up just a bit. Chris in turn mumbled something before pacing over to the bed, sitting down beside her.

"Here, eat. It practically tried to murder me." He shoved the bowl into her hands, causing her to jump and somewhat yelp. He hadn't taken into consideration that the bowl was rather hot, and she certainly was not ready for it.

One more he swore, grabbing the bowl back off of her. She gave him a slight glare, blowing on her palms, trying to chase off the heat. "Just because it tried to murder you, doesn't mean you can give it another chance at someone else." She stated, her tone giving away her half joking stance.

"Oh come on, surely you can take more than just some ol' hot bowl." He chuckled, placing the offender on the bedside table. He took hold of one of one of Jill's hand, giving the back of it a rather soft kiss.

Jill flinched at this, tugging her hand away with the little strength she could bother lending to the action.

"What in the world are you doing?!" She snapped, fidgeting somewhat, "Never do that to me again, Mr. Redfield."

"And if I do~?" He asked rather teasingly, making another grab for her hand. This time she seemed to squeal in response, unable to manage anything else in her state, and brought her hand to her chest away from him.

"Quit it quit it quit it!" She repeated a few times quickly, shifting back against the bed's pillows. She pouted at him, for some reason unable to take her usual hardarse stance about it.

"I can't help it V, you're too cute when you're sick, let alone acting like that." Chris said, causing the girl to cover her face with the long sleeves of her Pajamas. She hummed loudly, in a frustrated way, turning her body and refusing to look at him.

"You're a jerk. Go away." She huffed simply.

"Not until you eat your soup."

"I'm too afraid to now."

She parted her fingers just enough to see him. He continued to sit patiently where he was, legs crossed on the bed, just contently watching her. She closed her fingers back, raising her shoulder's higher and trying to turn further way.

"Stop that." She demanded quietly, unsure about the situation. Despite how long she had been working with him, Chris still had moments that were rather peculiar, and gave her a sensation a her stomach she wasn't fond of.

"Can't, not until you eat and I can make sure you're getting better." He stated, not changing his stance in the slightest, "I can't have you getting sicker, certainly not while you're under my roof."

She slammed her hands against the covers, pouting at him. When he didn't shift at all from his puppy-like appearance, she glared at him, rather confused by his responses and odd interest in her wellbeing.

He simply tilted his head somewhat, smiling broader. Try as she might, Jill couldn't keep her expression and softened, looking to the side once more. One hand clenched the covers tightly, bringing it up to her chest.

"So are you still planning on kicking me off your couch?" She asked rather meekly, not moving her gaze to him. He shrugged, continuing his smiling.

"You've already kicked me out of your bed." He chuckled. For a split second she allowed herself to look at him, before away again.

"Well, considering you've been rather good to me today…" She began, shifting somewhat awkwardly, "Perhaps I can invite you back in.

"Would you happen to mean…" He asked rather cautiously, raising a brow. She gave a nod, patting the covers beside her. He snorted, slipping into the bed, sitting closely beside her. She moved hesitantly again, only glancing at him for a few moments. She managed to settle down somewhat, moving her body to allow her to look at him before parting her arms.

"Cuddle me?"

"I think I like you better when you're sick." He cooed lovingly, slipping his arms around her waist, "You're incredibly huggable."

She pressed up against him, quite content with the comfortable warmth his body offered her. Perhaps she could let herself fall just a little bit. It couldn't do any harm, could it? There was something about him that just put her at ease, even in a sickened state.

He caught her off guard, leaning sideways to let them both rest on the bed properly now. She squirmed a little at this, but managed to settle once more, not finding much reason to fight.

The both remained silent, though far more peacefully than the silence they had shared earlier before Jill rather hesitantly broke it. A red tinge could just be seen over her cheeks as she looked up, just to look him in the eyes, seeming now uncomfortable, worried in a way.

"I, I don't have to ask, do I?" She asked quietly, swallowing hard. It was a difficult task, her throat rather dry yet somehow still feeling rather gluggy from the cold.

Chris moved his arms higher somewhat, tugging her closer. "Not unless you think you need to hear it to know it." He stated quietly, giving her a moment to think. Jill hummed slightly as an answer, showing more of a no response. He gave her a quick kiss on the forehead, feeling her risen temperature. "I love you."

Jill covered her face hearing this, mumbling something Chris couldn't understand. "I'm totally going to kick your arse when I'm better." She said, louder than whatever she had mumbled, "I hope you know that…"

"I know, so let me enjoy it for just a little bit, okay?" Chris chuckled, giving her another quick kiss before she could protest at all.

She bit her bottom lip before breathing in heavily, just managing to hold off a cough. "I… I love you too…"

"See~? Was that so hard?"

The tomato soup eventually cooled down, and off somewhere else, a happy Claire was using what she had assumed on the phone as an excuse to open a bottle of brandy in celebration.


End file.
